Oromar Battlers' League
by albuggs
Summary: My first piece of writing about a fictional region and its annual Pokemon League tournament. The characters are all either of my own creation or literally lifted from the games, such as specific Ace Trainers whose teams I particularly liked. Comment with your thoughts, I'd appreciate any feedback - just be nice, it's my first time.


The breadth of the colosseum was so vast that all that could be made out of one trainer standing opposite another was the faintest outline, blurred by the thick acetate barrier that separated the competitors from the battlefield. On the tiered levels above the trainers, an audience of what had to be thousands of spectators stood and sat with baited breath, awaiting the commentator's introduction to how the rules of this Preliminary Royal Rumble would unfold. Each of the forty three competitors stood in their allocated space around the outer ring, each with approximately ten feet of distance between the two on either side of them. In front of each trainer, fixed into the barrier that would presumably shield them from the fight that would be unfolding before them, was a mechanical tube just large enough for a pokéball to fit inside. Just above their heads was an outward facing screen with each trainer's picture and name, backed by bright green.

Everything about the forty three competitors was different; their mood, their appearances, their origins, the teams of Pokémon they had trained to get to this point, their track records of battles, competitions and titles won. However one thing did unite them all, one common theme had led them all to this point: the complete and utter determination that they would not be sent home any time soon.

Ace Trainer, Mariah Moore, folded her arms and cocked on her hip as she appraised the trainers to either side of her; the burley, slicked-back visage of fellow Sinnoh native, Felix, to her left, and ever-so-slightly too spooky Layla, whose heavily hooded eyes pierced Mariah's when they met. Meanwhile on the opposite side of the colosseum, florist Ambre nervously brushed out the creases in her skirt, whilst to her left, Valencia, gazed meditatively into the distance, trying to maintain her composure. Some trainers mopped their dewy brows in a bid not to look as anxious as they felt, while others spat bolshy fighting talk at whomever was closest that would listen.

"Hope you packed light, it's a long way back home for you, chick" Cruz, a tall, broad-shouldered guy of 20-ish sneered at cool and collected Alola native, Makana.

"Call me chick again and I'll make sure you'll be the first one I knock outta this competition" she mused without even sparing Cruz so much as a sideways glance. Opal, a Snowpoint City native with swathes of navy hair draped over her shoulders laughed wickedly at Makana's comeback,

"Let's hope none of you boys are too afraid to be beaten by a girl" Opal jeered. Makana spared her a wink before returning to her sizing up of the other competitors she could see through the glass from where she stood.

A crackle of a microphone. Any slight murmur from the crowd became instantly extinguished. All of a sudden, a voice swelled from the commentators' box to fill the entire stadium;

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am thrilled to welcome you all to the preliminary round of this year's Oromar Battlers' League Championships!" The spectators erupted into cheers and applause. Some brandished banners and flags with names or slogans in support of their chosen trainer.

"Forty three competitors have worked tirelessly with their teams this year to earn their spot here today; forty three trainers from the length and breadth of the world are here to prove to you and to themselves that they've got what it takes to take home the title of Oromar League Champion!" The commentator declared to a second explosion of clapping and hollering from the fans in the crowd.

"And so without further ado, let's meet all forty three competitors who have made it this far; ladies and gentlemen lets give it up for Ambre all the way from Johto!" The screen above Ambre's head that faced outward from the crowd flashed as she gave a nervous wave to the audience, who cheered in support of her.

"AMINAH who hails from our very own Stonebridge Town!" The same flashing screen for a tall arabic looking girl draped in white linen robes. The procession continued;

ANGELO from Alola;

ARTHUR from Kanto;

AUTUMN from Sinnoh;

AZRA from Oromar, and so on, all the way through until finally they reached, "Zita, from Oromar's own Coriola Shore!" The audience cheered as Zita took her stance, before quickly quieting in eagerness to hear how this round would unfold.

"Now folks, the way this preliminary round operates is as a royal rumble style battle royale. That is, each trainer selects only one Pokémon to enter the colosseum arena; once inside, its every Pokémon for themselves-" a collective gasp seemed to consume all of the oxygen in the vicinity at once. Trainers looked at one another in shock;

"you heard it right, each trainer gets only one chance to show what they've got to make it through to the quarterfinals; we're whittling this hoard of forty three right down to twenty four. And what's more, is their Pokémon have to stick it out on their own, without taking any commands." What once was a calm and measured whisper suddenly swelled into a crescendo of shock, outrage and excitement. The crowd and the combatants were beside themselves;

"No commands?! What is this!" one trainer, Savannah, exclaimed;

"Heh, any trainer worth their salt should have worked hard enough with their pokémon for them to battle without taking instruction" another brutish-looking trainer, Seth, jeered back at her.

"Ladies and gentlemen this will be a real test of which trainers have raised their Pokémon to think and act in sync with themselves without the need for command. Each trainers' Pokémon's health will be tracked and when they've been deemed unfit to battle, you will hear this noise-" an abrupt horn echoed out across the stadium as all of the trainers screens flashed red "-and their partner will be recalled, disqualifying the trainer from the competition. When only twenty four trainers remain, the battle will be stopped and those still competing will progress onto the quarterfinals. Trainers, you will now have two minutes to select the partner who will represent you and take you through to the next qualifying round" the commentator finished, leaving the colosseum abuzz with excited muttering.

The spread of emotions felt throughout the competitors' circle was everything on a spectrum from elation to sheer terror. Some made their choices instantly, withdrawing pokéballs of different colours and patterns from belts, bags and pockets, whilst others pondered frantically about which partner might be the likeliest bet to see them through to the next round.

Alola native, Florencia, weighed two choices between each hand;

'Toxapex can use its barbs to withstand big hits-' she contemplated the venomous spines that coated the urchin's body, '-but I know I can rely on Pangoro to pack a punch' . She gave both pokéballs one last summation before pocketing one and resuming her stance with the other clutched tightly in her hand. Several stations to her right, psychic type aficionado Olesia had all six of her pokéballs levitating in mid-air in front of her, her eyes closed deep in a state of trance and willing for her powers to foresee which of her team would be the best to secure her victory.

One trainer from Kanto, Arthur, a short boy in his late teens with a thatch of straw-blonde hair, caught the eye of fellow Kanto native, Isis, stationed next to him who was returning her spurned choices back into her bag. She smiled,

"Good luck out there-" she said kindly, "-it'd be great if both of us get through."

"You too-" Arthur smiled back; "-whatever happens out there between our pokémon, I really hope we can both get through to the next round, for everyone at home." Arthur spoke softly and Isis knew he was genuine.

A siren rang out across the stadium, signalling that the trainers' two minutes was up.

"Trainers, it's time to submit your combatants. Please place your chosen pokéball into the mechanism in front of you" the commentator instructed.

Each trainer followed suit; inserting their pokéballs into the metal tube set into the acetate barrier. They instantly came to life with a series of clicks and whirs, the shafts closed around each pokéball and withdrew them beyond the clear screen and into the battlefield. What happened next was really quite spectacular; the mechanisms stationed before each trainer released every pokémon in unison into the colosseum's battleground. Forty three white ribbons of liquid light rippled forth, each one blossoming into its own size and shape until forty three very different creatures all stood ringed around the inside edge of the colosseum. Gasps and cheers filled the stadium as the spectators marvelled at the variety before them.

Tori's impressive Arcanine tossed its fine mane of orange, white and black as it basked in the sunshine that poured in from overhead. Unovan trainer, Corky, whooped from behind the glass as his Unfezent lifted itself into the sky with a single beat of its wings, soaring in a victory lap of the stadium before returning to its trainer. Webster's Durant gnashed its razor-sharp pincers menacingly as it clawed the ground, its chrome body gleaming in the light. Angelo, an Alolan islander with tanned skin and dreadlocks beamed as his Flareon ruffled its coat grandly, sending a flurry of embers into the air that left speck sized scorch burns on the ground as they came to land. Pokémon of all types and sizes emitted battlecries of determination for their trainers: Cordelia's solemn Marowak, Autumn's brutish looking Honchkrow, Monique's rough gruff Granbull, Jada's mysterious Mismagius and Paris' sturdy looking Heracross.

The stage was set; an icon of each trainer's pokémon appeared with an accompanying energy bar set to full on the screens above their heads.

"When a trainer's pokémon can no longer battle, it will be recalled and its trainer disqualified. Contenders, prepare yourselves" the commentator declared. Every trainer assumed their stance;

"C'mon Starmie, let's bring it home!" Reena cheered,

"Knock 'em out one by one, Lickilicky!" Cruz punched the air,

"Slowbro, stay focused" Makana willed calmly.

"Pokémon, good luck! Three, two, one…BEGIN!" A siren blared and all at once they charged.


End file.
